


generic spin the bottle fic

by africabytoto



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: ???? - Freeform, M/M, brief drug use warning, like two fucking pages of ass sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 04:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3715723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/africabytoto/pseuds/africabytoto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ross shouts needlessly to get Dan’s attention. “You’re hot but you kinda got a stick up your ass!” He can picture Arin holding a hand over his mouth to match the muffled giggles he hears from the living room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	generic spin the bottle fic

**Author's Note:**

> this is kind of a college fic, definitely an au. dan's a stoner. arin has plants. ross has his accent. i love to sin

****

When Dan meets Ross for the first time, he decides that moving back to Phili seems like a decent plan.

It’s not like Arin’s a bad roommate, or that his other friends are awful. Quite the contrary, Dan and Arin have been getting along extremely well for the past year that they’ve lived together, and he really digs Suzy and Barry and all of Arin’s other weird artist friends. So when Arin asks if a buddy of his from Australia can crash with them while he’s sorting out his move to Cali, of course Dan says yes.

He squints from the blank document he has open to the clock in the corner of his laptop. It’s been three hours – from 10pm to 1am – that Arin and his friend have been discussing Dragonball Z. Three and a half hours of Arin’s stupid Frieza impression and Ross’ shrill laugh, and that’s just today. For the past five days, Dan’s shared apartment has been loud with video games and anime and Ross saying shit like, “Okay, hear me out – what if Lanky Kong is released as DLC in Smash Brothers?” (followed by one of Arin’s signature unreasonably high pitched screams).

Dan’s taken to keeping his bedroom door shut tight in some feeble hope that the thin partition will quiet their voices, unsurprisingly to no avail. He’s been opening and closing a Word document periodically every hour or so, praying that the two artists will somehow come to their senses and remember the several times that Dan’s told them he has an essay due next Friday and that he would really appreciate if they would just be a _tiny_ _bit_ quieter. He decides to try once more.

Arin, of course, attempts to show him some mercy. “Yeah man, sorry about that,” he replies sheepishly. “We’ll try to keep it down for you.” He smiles up at Dan from the couch as Ross breezes past from the bathroom and reclaims his seat beside Arin. Dan thanks him and shoots a brief smile at Ross before starting towards his room again.

“What’s up?” Dan hears Ross’ accent even after his door is closed. He strains to catch Arin’s mumbled response, presumably relaying Dan’s plea for them to shut the fuck up. Ross laughs. “Your roommate’s kinda got a stick up his ass, hey?” Dan pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s Arin’s nervous laugh, then another mumble. “Dude, whatever, I don’t care. I mean – hey, Dan!” The apartment is quiet but Ross shouts needlessly to get Dan’s attention. “You’re hot but you kinda got a stick up your ass!” He can picture Arin holding a hand over his mouth to match the muffled giggles he hears from the living room.

Dan can feel his scowl deepen. Not only was Ross absolutely grating, he was also insufferably flirtatious, which, naturally, made Arin even more insufferably flirtatious. Not that he so much minded the latter, considering that he and Arin are already wont to hook up when the mood strikes, but it got to be a little much when he was at breakfast, just trying to enjoy his fucking Lucky Charms, and both men were accosting him with comments like, “Wow, Dan, your hair is looking especially pullable this morning,” or, “So you’re like, 6’2” right? How big is your dick?” (Dan’s positive Arin has actually shared this information, because Ross abruptly stopped asking yesterday and will sometimes smirk at Dan’s crotch when he thinks he’s not looking.)

He snaps back to the present with a long sigh, and takes a wistful look at his laptop screen. The cursor of the blank document blinks back at him. Directly behind on his bedside table, his grinder and rollies seem to beckon. Dan’s struck by how typically stoner it is of him to blow off school work and get high, but he grabs his weed anyway.

A few minutes later, he emerges from his room again with a joint and lighter in hand. “You guys wanna get high?” He asks with a coy grin, interrupting whatever tangent Ross was rambling on about. He glares while Arin looks interested.

“I didn’t think you had weed after last Saturday.” Arin’s voice is slightly questioning and deliberately vague. Ross doesn’t need to know that he and Dan got _very_ high and spent at least six hours out of the day fucking. Unless Arin had already divulged that information as well. Internally, Dan cringes.

“Nah, I picked up earlier this week,” he replies, heading out towards their balcony. Arin is standing up to follow Dan, but seems to remember his guest halfway there, and pauses to turn around. On the couch, Ross looks weary and perhaps a little lost.

Absolutely _glowing_ with all the traits of a good host, Arin says, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want. I’ll be like, 5 minutes, tops.” Dan turns back to the glass door, rolling his eyes as he slides it open and slips out. The usually warm California air has dropped in temperature as it does around 2am, and he pulls his loose, ratty plaid tighter around his torso, leaning up against the railing. He looks out across the neighborhood, waiting to hear Arin close the door. He assumes Ross will be too enraptured metaphorically jerking off to his own stupid accented voice to come out, so he’s surprised when he hears two sets of feet shuffle out onto the tiny porch.

Turning, he shoots Arin a look while bringing to joint to his lips to light it. He takes a long breath in, then passes to Arin beside him and breathes out when he asks, “Are you gonna join us or were you just bored having no one to talk at in there?”

Ross looks slightly indignant, yet still manages to muster his smug-as-all-fuck face when he replies, “I thought it might be a good idea give weed a try if I’m gonna be moving here.” Arin’s puffing out his drag and passing it to Ross while he’s speaking.

“Oh my God,” Dan laughs. “Is this baby’s first hit? Do I need to walk you through this?” Ross mimics how Arin was holding the joint and alternates between eyeing it cautiously and glowering at Dan. Before he can push the thought down, Dan’s brain is telling him, _you know he’s kind of hot, right? Like, you can see that, right?_ He rubs the heel of his palm roughly into his eye to dispel the idea. It’s childish, but he blames it on the single hit he just took.

Ross finally takes a drag and manages to hold it in for all of 2 seconds – which Dan will give him credit for – before coughing into his arm. Dan laughs again and takes the joint while Arin winces empathetically. He’d only started smoking a few months ago, and even then, it was once in a while and only ever with Dan.

As he’s taking another hit, Dan frowns. “This probably isn’t going to last very long between three of us,” he mutters around the joint, mostly to himself. Arin plucks it out of his mouth. “We’ll make it last,” he says in an exaggerated, sultry tone. Before he takes another drag, he looks up at Ross and asks, “You want more or are you good?” Ross shrugs, but nods. “’Kay, open your mouth.”

Something about the way Ross immediately obeys makes Dan a little tingly.

Arin inhales from the joint, stepping forward, and grabs Ross’ jaw to tilt his head at a better angle. His eyes fall shut and he raises a hand to grab at Arin’s forearm, and breathes in when Arin blows the smoke into his mouth.

Shotgunning is nothing that Dan hasn’t done a million times before with a million different friends, including Arin, but when he’s, for lack of better term, third wheeling to it, it seems a little intimate. He looks out over the railing again, hoping the street lamps aren’t bright enough to light up his flushed face.

“Dan.” Arin’s voice pulls him back, and he turns to see his friend’s outstretched arm offering him the joint. Arin’s other hand has fallen onto Ross’ collarbone, and the shorter man is looking slightly dazed, still holding onto Arin’s wrist. Dan takes the smoldering joint as Arin says, “You can have the rest, I’m good.” He pulls both his hands back to his sides and Ross seems to snap out of his daydream.

“That was like, a hundred percent awful.” Ross apparently jumps immediately back into his constant stream of consciousness. “What’s up with Americans and doing things that are awful? I don’t even feel any different.” Dan sighs out smoke, tapping ash into the old tin can that’s set beside Arin’s plants. He was hoping that getting Ross high might mellow him out, but he’s never been lucky like that.

Arin shrugs and leans back onto the wall. “I mean, it’s probably because we’re fucking awful. Just like, as a collective, you know?” Dan lets out a breathy laugh and Ross shakes his head, making a face. “S’fuckin’ stupid,” he mutters under his breath.

The three of them quietly banter back and forth as Dan finishes off the joint, then head back inside. With nothing else to do, Dan decides to stay out in the living room with Arin and Ross. He thinks that he’s high enough to deal with Ross’ piercing voice.

They’re discussing ‘80s movies when Ross interrupts Dan for probably the hundredth time in the past 20 minutes. “Speaking of shitty tropes from teen movies, I’ve never actually played spin the bottle,” he says while Dan clenches his teeth to stop himself from leaning over the coffee table to smack Ross upside the head. Arin laughs a bit.

“I haven’t either, but I think it’s because I never went to parties in high school and shit,” he adds, running a hand through his hair. “And also because it’s not the fucking ‘60s and you don’t have to play a stupid game if you want someone’s dick.”

Dan nods in agreement. “I feel like kids these days can just, like, walk up to each other at parties and be like, ‘you wanna go down to friskotown?’ And then they fuckin’…” He makes a flippant hand gesture. “Do it? I guess? Also, I can’t believe I just said ‘kids these days’.”

Ross makes a pseudo-disgusted face as he laughs. ”Okay, you old man. I understand that _these kids_ and their new-fangled courting rituals can be a little confusing, but no need to remind us that you’re a hundred years old.” Arin’s laughing too as he gets up from the couch, heading towards the kitchen. He comes back with an empty bottle.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Dan arches an eyebrow in bewilderment. “You don’t actually want to play spin the fucking bottle in 2015.”

Arin makes a non-committal face, lifting a shoulder casually, and places the bottle on the coffee table. “I mean, none of us have played it. It’s stupid as fuck, but why not?” His tone is filled with a playful amusement that Dan has only ever known to precede merciless foreplay, but he’s _just_ high enough to not think much of it.

Ross gulps down the remainder of his water, and leans forward, saying, “I’m down.” He looks at Dan expectantly, and with no small amount of devious challenge in his voice, asks, “Is your arthritis acting up? Do you need us to spin it for you?” A breathy, frustrated but amused laugh sounds from Dan’s throat.

“Yeah Dan,” Arin chirps in, tilting his head. “I’ll even make it as innocent as possible. Instead of going into a closet, all you gotta do is hug whoever you get. If you can’t do that in five seconds, you have to kiss them, and if you can’t do _that_ in ten seconds, you have to shove your tongue down their throat.” Dan makes a face. “Sound good?”

“Sounds fuckin’ stupider than the original, but I’m going to assume I have no say in this,” he replies, resigned as he settles back into his seat. Arin grins at him and spins the bottle. It lands on Ross beside him and Arin immediately goes in for a hug.

Pouting, Ross loudly gripes, “You’re not gonna wait so you can kiss me?” Arin pulls away laughing. “Fuck you, man. I thought we had something.” He stands up with his glass, and heads into their kitchen to get a refill. “Your turn,” Arin gestures to Dan, nudging the bottle closer to his friend from across the table.

Grumbling, Dan flicks his wrist callously to spin the bottle. It goes around a couple times before it comes to a perfect stop pointing at Ross’ empty seat.

Oh, _good._

“Fucking – really? Really, God?” Dan looks up at the ceiling for dramatic effect, shaking his head. He goes to walk to the kitchen to speed up this ridiculous game, but Arin grabs his wrist. “What, Arin? What is it?”

Arin’s grinning wider than ever when he says, “You can’t leave. You’ve gotta stay here until he gets back, and then hug him. Or kiss him, I guess, unless he gets back in, like, one second.” The water is running in the kitchen and Ross yells, “Who’s turn is it?”

Sparing a brief glance at the kitchen, Dan objects, “That was absolutely not a rule that you mentioned before.”

“I mean, it was, I just neglected to bring it up.” There’s this sweet and blameless face that Arin gives frequently when he’s done something horribly wrong, and he’s _really_ caking it on right now. Dan hates it.

At least another ten seconds pass before Ross is back in the living room, water in hand. “What happened? Did I miss something in this incredibly riveting game we’re having?”

“Nah,” Arin replies with a casual air, “You just gotta make out with Dan.”

Ross says, “Cool,” before he places his glass on the table and straddles Dan.

He has a split second to process what’s going on before Ross’ full weight is in his lap and their lips are clashing together awkwardly. It’s unexpected, but Dan’s mouth is open in half a protest, and Ross is licking into it eagerly. Dan lifts his hands to push Ross off, but when he grinds down, they both moan and Dan’s hands are on Ross’ hips to keep him there instead. They make out for a good three minutes – which feels like an eternity in their state – before Dan remembers that they’re not alone.

He pulls away from Ross, ignoring his whimpers to try to get a better look at Arin. Ross is sucking and biting at his neck incessantly and, from the other side of the table, Arin is giving him a look that can only be described as pure fucking evil. Arin’s grinning, staring half-lidded at his friend, and he palms himself through his stupid Hello Kitty sweatpants at the same time that Ross pushes his dick up against Dan’s, drawing desperate sounds out of all three of them. Dan’s not sure he’s ever gotten this hard this fast.

“Ross,” Arin’s voice – dialed down to a low, commanding timbre that never fails to go straight to Dan’s cock, -- cuts through the air to grab the other man’s attention. He makes a slight noise in recognition, but lifts his head only to peer with half-there blue eyes at Dan. Staring at Ross’ mouth, Dan tightens his grip on the lithe body above him and stretches up to catch his lips again, but Arin repeats his name a little more forcefully.

“Yes, Arin?” Ross halts the movement of his hips to twist around and look at Arin, annoyed.

Arin seems satisfied with this, though. “Could you do me a huge favor and blow Dan?” His smile is almost innocent when he turns his attention back to the latter. Dan can’t believe this.

Ross is on his knees in record time, and Dan thinks that this is a very good look for him, pupils blown, mouthing at Dan’s dick through his sweats. He opens his legs as far as the armchair will allow, and has one hand on the back of Ross’ neck and the other buried in his hair. Ross tugs at the waist of his pants and Dan lifts his hips to let him pull them down a little with his boxers. When Ross’ lips wrap around his cock, Dan’s sure he wakes their neighbors with his cry. _Wouldn’t be the first time_ , he thinks fleetingly.

Across the table, Arin’s got his dick out and is stroking himself, eyes closed so as to take in every sound. His mouth has fallen open and Dan wishes he could kiss him, but he settles for tugging at Ross’ soft hair and pushing him further down his length. A muffled noise from Ross captures Arin’s attention, and his eyes open slowly to stare darkly at Dan.

“Pull his hair again, he loves that,” Arin comments coolly, licking his lips. Somewhere in the back of his head, Dan recalls that this is Arin and Ross’ first time meeting each other in real life. He considers that they had discussed it at some point, probably only in passing, but in his hazy, heated mind, he imagines the two fucking in Arin’s room sometime in the past few days, Ross trying to keep quiet with Arin’s hand gripping roughly at his hair. All the while Dan was none the wiser. Moaning at the mental image, he thrusts shallowly into Ross’ mouth and tugs hard at the short brown locks.

It strikes Dan just how fucking _good_ Ross is at this. He forces himself down, the head of Dan’s cock hitting wetly against the back of his throat, then smoothly pulls back up while tightening his lips and hollowing out his cheeks. The slick, languid movement of Ross’ tongue around his dick brings Dan closer to his orgasm, and, judging by his soft, stuttered panting, Arin’s getting there too. “Ross,” he calls out again. “C’mere.” This time, Ross immediately pulls off of Dan, though takes a second when he rises from his knees to kiss Dan wetly, before maneuvering around the table and positioning himself on the floor in front of Arin.

The loss of wet warmth hits Dan hard, and he’s immediately got a fist around himself to make up for it. “Fuck you,” he hisses distractedly at Arin, who gives a short, gravelly laugh.

“Speaking of, could you grab the lube from my room? That would be amazing, _Danny_.” Arin’s penchant for moaning out his friend’s nickname while getting head doesn’t seem to be lost, regardless of who’s giving. At any other time, Dan would retort cheekily, but he finds himself pacing quickly to Arin’s bedside table.

When he returns, they’ve repositioned, Arin lying fully on the couch with eyes shut tight, pink sweats forgotten on the ground, and a very naked Ross busy between his thighs. The arch of Ross’ back and his bare ass are all but an invitation to Dan, and he quickly discards his own pants as he moves himself behind Ross. He realizes that he has no clue why Arin asked for the lube but instantly comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t really care.

The couch dips when Dan kneels on it, and Arin’s eyes open to stare questioningly at him hovering above Ross. Dan shoots back a pleading look, lube and condom in one hand, the other poised just above the Ross’ hip. Before Arin can get an approving word out, Ross grinds his ass back onto Dan’s cock, and he pulls briefly away from Arin to impatiently say, “Would you please just fuck me already?” Arin chuckles a bit, but it quickly turns to a moan when Ross’ mouth is back on him. Dan doesn’t need much persuading.

He slicks his fingers with the lube and makes hurried work to prep Ross, taking note of how he moans around Arin’s dick when he adds a second finger, how he rolls his hips back when Dan hits a sweet spot. Arin is gripping the back of Ross’ neck, gently guiding the movements of his head to be rhythmic with his small, occasional thrusts. Dan adds a third finger and notices the way Ross digs his nails into Arin’s hip.

Soon, Ross seems to be trying to sink further onto his hand, so Dan pulls away and rips open the condom, quickly rolling it on. He pushes into Ross at an agonizingly slow and careful pace, not wanting to hurt him. The sounds coming from Ross get more desperate and messy as Arin becomes more purposeful in his movements, pushing Ross further down his cock. Their combined moans drive Dan to thrust harshly all the way into Ross’ tight ass, and he has to take a minute to remember to breathe before he begins to move softly.

He’s focusing very hard on not coming immediately, and Arin’s not helping. “Fuck him harder _Danny_ ,” he directs Dan between hard breaths, “he can take it.” Dan is now _sure_ they’d fucked at some point during Ross’ stay, and if he weren’t high and dizzy from the smell of their sex, he thinks he’d be a little miffed that he wasn’t invited. Dan follows Arin’s lead, clutching Ross’ hips and thrusting into him roughly. Ross’ movements grow irregular, and it’s clear he’s close, as is Arin, who’s becoming more vocal.

“God, you give good head, Ross,” Arin’s voice strains. “You fucking thrive off this, bet you’d come just from sucking me off. But you look so good on Danny’s dick, baby, you look _so_ good. Fuck, I’m gonna come, can I come in your mouth, baby, please?” Arin pulls Ross’ head up by his hair and angles his face so that Dan can see Arin coming thickly onto Ross’ tongue. Ross stutters his hips with his own release, coming all over the cushions. There’s a moment when Dan is still thrusting into Ross, unsure of how he’s kept it together for so long, but when Arin tugs Ross up to meet him and licks filthily into his mouth while keeping eye contact, Dan’s fucking gone.

Once he comes down, Dan shakily pulls out of Ross with an obscene noise that they both whine softly at. He stands, slipping the condom off and meanders to the bathroom to throw it away and wash his hands. Arin is tracing lazy patterns up and down Ross’ back when he returns. Voice slightly muffled by Arin’s chest, Ross mumbles, “I know I said I’ve never played it before, but I think that might be the first time in history that spin the bottle has ended in a threesome.”

Dan shakes his head, allowing himself a small smile. Yawning, he recalls that must be around 2am, and says, “Have fun on the couch, assholes,” before heading off to his room. He strips off his shirt and moves his school work from his bed, then crawls up it and pulls the covers around him. Right as he’s getting comfortable, his phone goes off beside his weed on his bedside table. He wants to throw it when he reads the message from Arin.

_See? Ross isn’t all that bad_


End file.
